


A Kindness Remembered

by danceswithhamsters01



Series: Reddit Prompts [49]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: First Meetings, First Pet, Gen, Pet Names, Pets
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-21
Updated: 2019-04-21
Packaged: 2020-01-23 04:36:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 805
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18542395
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/danceswithhamsters01/pseuds/danceswithhamsters01
Summary: Based on a prompt from r/dragonageSevarra and Alistair have survived Ostagar and are now making their way northward with Morrigan in tow. One day, as they're plodding along, they meet a mabari that was being trailed by a pack of darkspawn.





	A Kindness Remembered

_**Prompt 3** : Codex Entry: A companion and your OC’s first meeting._

 

She kept her eyes open for some chamomile growing near the path they were trudging along. If the mage was lucky, she would find some to brew into a tea to ease the complaining of her gut. Alistair had not been kidding when he said he was not a good cook. That, or her stomach really was delicate, something he’d teased her about after the first time he cooked. Only, it kept happening every time Sevarra ate something he’d cooked. She was still having uncomfortable burps from the “stew” he’d made the previous night; the same stew they ate as breakfast that morning.

 

A soft delighted gasp escaped her as she spotted the tiny white flowers with yellow centers. They were growing along the fence that separated a farmer’s land from the well-trod path. An untrained eye would’ve easily mistaken them as merely being “little daisies.” They weren’t as neat and precise as the ones in the Circle’s herb gardens she’d grown up appreciating, but they’d do. She knelt to collect as much of the plant as she could. Maker knew she’d need more than just a couple of doses worth of the stuff!

 

“What are you doing?” the taller Warden asked the shorter one.

 

“Collecting herbs.”

 

“But, why?” he asked.

 

“Because we need medicine, both in the present and probably in the not too distant future?” she answered.

 

“But those are just… small daisies. Dwarf daisies.”

 

She could hear Morrigan snicker from several feet behind her. The younger Witch of the Wilds was also well-acquainted with useful herbs that could be found in the wild.

 

“Actually, they’re something different. They’re called Chamomile and they can be used to--” her reply was cut off by the sound of frantic barking, along with the dull aching sensation at the back of her head that she’d learned to associate with one thing: darkspawn.

 

The Wardens exchanged glances.

 

“Did you feel that?” she asked hesitantly.

 

He nodded grimly, readying his sword and shield.

 

The mage rose to her feet, peering into the distance. A blur of cinnamon fur was barreling its way toward them. The beast skidded to a stop at her feet and let loose more frantic barks. A mabari, out here, all alone? The beast quickly turned and growled, hackles raised. Clearly, it was trying to tell them something. A band of hurlocks were jogging up the path, in pursuit of the animal. They stopped as they spotted the Wardens and their companion. The biggest one in the group uttered an unholy chuckling soundwhile it made a throat-cutting motion and pointed at the humans.

 

She mused to herself that the dog was either asking for help against the monsters following it… or maybe warning them that they were being hunted? She gripped her staff and took aim, letting loose a bolt of energy at one of the darkspawn. It seemed unlikely that a band of a dozen darkspawn would chase down a single dog. Wardens, however… she could feel the burning hatred they held for her kind from yards away.

 

After the last of the monsters had been put down, the hound trotted up to her and sat on his haunches, panting. She hesitantly held out a gloved hand for him to sniff. Why did he seem so familiar? His stump of a tail wagged as he let the mage lightly scratch his ears. This close up, she could see that his coat wasn’t entirely cinnamon: his feet and toes were covered in snowy white fur.

 

“You… you’re the dog I helped cure back at Ostagar, aren’t you?” she murmured to the beast.

 

Alistair tilted his head as he approached, sizing up the war hound. “I think he was out there looking for you. He’s… chosen you. Mabari are like that. They call it imprinting.”

 

Sevarra knelt down and rubbed the dog’s back. The mabari had survived that terrible battle in Ostagar? He’d wandered across Maker only knew how much land searching… for her? She remembered the kennel master mentioning how the dog’s previous handler had died in battle, and that imprinting for a second time was a rare occurrence. When most would’ve given in to despair, person or beast, this fellow went hunting. Such perseverance had to be admired.

 

Morrigan sighed, shattering the mood. “Does this mean we’re going to have this mangy beast following us about now? Wonderful.”

 

“He’s not mangy!” Alistair said in a croony voice, mostly to the dog.

 

“I’ve never had an animal before. I wouldn’t say no to the company,” the Warden mage smiled.

 

“What’re you going to call him?”

 

The dog wagged his stumpy tail, lifting his lips in what could be considered a smile. The mage got a good look at his rows of sharp teeth.

 

“Fang.”


End file.
